I Want to Be Beautiful

I found an article on CNN that really resonated with me. I'm talking my heart started racing, and tears came to my eyes. It had nothing to do with genocide, endangered animals, or the destruction of natural resources. It wasn't even a military surprise homecoming. So then what was this emotion about?

Plastic surgery. (Find the article here.)

Yes, that's right. I almost started weeping over elective cosmetic reconstruction. More specifically, the article was about Asian people (women and men) undergoing surgery to look more Western. As an adult, I understand that people come in all different shapes, sizes, and colors. I know that each one of us is beautiful in our own way. As a child, not so much.

Me-circa 3yrs old. Long before I knew how uncool,
then cool, looking Asian was.

I wanted to so badly to fit in with the other kids in school. I hated being different. I was a different color. My hair was different. My eyes. My nose. My face is flat. And I have a horribly dark mustache. No one in our tiny town looked like me. Add in the fact that math was a breeze, and I loved books. I was a magnet for bullies. The boys were not nice. (More about that here.)

I would see people on tv, in movies and magazines, and wish on every first star that I would wake up the next morning looking like them. Alas, it never happened.

When I hit fourth grade, I needed glasses. My nose has no bridge. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find glasses that fit a wide/round head with no bridge? It's ridiculous. Getting my glasses fitted usually takes about an hour. In addition to wanting to look similar, now I wanted a nose job just to make my glasses fit. I asked my mom for as much twice when I was younger. The first time she blew me off, the second time she told me we couldn't afford it. It's pretty hard to pay for rhinoplasty when you're forced to wear welfare glasses.

It was a teen tragedy back in the day, but I'm a lot better with my Asian-ness now. My husband is the biggest reason. My Asian features are some of what he loves most about me. My heart soars every time he boasts how happy he is that the girls have my bridge-less nose. Not gonna lie, my children are gorgeous. I make sure to tell them every chance I get. I don't want them wishing they were different from how they were born. It's a rough way to grow up.

So to the ignorant commenters on CNN's article, although the doctor used some superficial reasons that Asians want to look White, it was a little bit deeper for some of us.

I Love Y'all Just the Way You Are,

Bullying Prevention Month

October is Bullying Prevention Month. It’s something that hits pretty close to the heart for me. When I was little, my family was the only Asian family in our community. It’s hard being the only girl whose face is flat, and eyes are shaped differently. Add to that how much I love Math and reading. I was a prime target for bullies.

My name is Lamphone (pronounced Lampoon). It’s spelled like lamp-phone. Admit it, you’re doing it already. You saw the pronunciation and said to yourself, “Like National Lampoon!” I’ve taken ownership of it now, but when I was younger it hurt. I’ve also been called everything that rhymes with “lampoon.” Harpoon. Typhoon. Pontoon.

When I was in second grade my close friends started calling me simply “Poon.” Now, you’re all giggling. I do, too--now. I even enjoy a good laugh when my husband tells me that he talked about me at work, and no one believed I let him call me that. In second grade we had no clue what “poon” was slang for. In fourth grade, the boys learned. Honestly, fourth and fifth grades were probably the hardest years of my youth.

In fourth grade I also got glasses. I was Asian (with a dirty sounding name), smart, and wore glasses. It was like I had a target on my back.

My parents were only informed twice that I had problems being picked on. I was embarrassed. I felt that there must’ve been something wrong with me, and that was why I was being singled out. I got into a fight once in second grade and again in fourth--both times against boys. It was no fun, and the punishment sucked. I do not condone fighting at all.

It took a long time for me to develop a thick skin. It was the great group of friends I made in middle school, and kept through high school, that finally helped me realize it was okay to let my freak flag fly. Although we’re not as close as we once were, they are still very near and dear to my heart. (You know who you are Partee Possee!)

It breaks my heart to see children being picked on and bullied now. I know how those kids feel. I want to run up to them and give them the biggest bear hug ever and take them for ice cream. I fear that my own children will become the targets of bullying. It’s an anxiety I live with everyday. Right now, my heart is racing imagining my children being unhappy at school. I have mixed-race children. One is a major bookworm, one is extremely emotional, one is a tomboy. All have things about them that someone could use negatively against them.

Children learn what they are taught. It’s a simple concept. I try to teach my kids that everyone is, in general, a good person. Everyday brings an opportunity for a new friend. And just because someone is not the same as you, there is nothing wrong with them. I hope beyond hope that other parents are doing the same with their own kids.

The End of Bullying Begins With You!

For more info on National Bullying prevention month, click here.